


House of Memories

by miraculous_oceanseyes



Series: Home and Memories [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith is lost, Keith's Desert Shack, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Memories, Post-Canon, Self-Sacrifice, ehhh im bad at tags, klance, probably, the writing style is kinda supposed to be artsy but like most of this was written at 1-3 AM, they just really love eachother, yea hes hella gay for Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 03:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11683227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraculous_oceanseyes/pseuds/miraculous_oceanseyes
Summary: “AGH!”He screamed, suddenly sitting up.His skin was clammy, heart racing in a state of panic and his breathing coming out in ragged breaths. Snatching his shirt in order to try and calm down, Keith noticed that he was shaking.Why was he doing that?Where was he?Looking around, he noticed the room he was in. He relaxed.Of course.He was home, in his shack out in the desert.___________________Keith wakes up to find himself back home on Earth with no recollection of Voltron. Why is he here? Why does he feel like he's missing something? And why is he obsessed with the color blue?





	House of Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!   
> So this was a oneshot I started a while ago when I was _supposed to_ be writing an essay for English class but I got a _little_ distracted and wrote a 4-page ficlet instead. When I came back a little later to read it over I decided to continue and see where it goes. Soon 4-pages turned into 4K words (17 pages).
> 
> Unfortunately, that's probably why the style is all over the place. Well...that and I was trying out a new style. Feel free to let me know what you think of said style, or literally just any thoughts y'all have at all. If you want to know whats going on about 'The Prince and The Knight' check my end notes! 
> 
> **Bonus points for anyone to guess what songs I listened to while writing this.**   
> (Hint: It was not P!ATD, the title is just a pure coincidence because I just felt like it fit.) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> ((Thanks to AllTheF33ls for being my beta...even though you were useless when it came to title ideas))

_ His chest hurt. Adrenaline ran through his system, feeling like liquid lightning in his limbs, despite how heavy they felt. He could barely register what was happening, except the blackness. Too dark. And yet, It seemed….so enticing. Maybe he should just close his eyes-- _

_ Oh.  _

_ Wait.  _

_ They’re already closed… _

_ Funny, he doesn’t remember doing that…. _

_ The gentlest of exhales suddenly send a jolt of pain through his system.  He really shouldn’t do that.  _

_ As if in a tunnel, a faraway voice catches his attention.  _

“KEITH _!” _

_ Whose voice is that? He recognized it, it felt familiar. As if he knew it well: too well. There is panic laced within that single call. He can’t seem to catch that tingle in the back of his mind. It’s frustrating. He’d punch it if he could. Who is it? Why does he know them? What made them so scared?  _

“KEIT- _...” _

_ But it’s fading. Still calling out to him, but moving farther away, so he can only catch snippets now. Ears filling with cotton balls, he slowly became deaf to the voice in the tunnel.  _

“KE….T….. C…..me...ba….to…”

_ Whoever it is, it’s too late now. Everything is too dark. _

* * *

“AGH!”

He screamed, suddenly sitting up. 

His skin was clammy, heart racing in a state of panic and his breathing coming out in ragged breaths. Snatching his shirt in order to try and calm down, Keith noticed that he was shaking. 

_ Why was he doing that?  _

_ Where was he? _

Looking around, he noticed the room he was in. He relaxed. 

_ Of course. _

He was home, in his shack out in the desert. The same one he was in after he got kicked out of the Garrison. 

_ How could he have forgotten that? _

It had been his home for almost a year now, every detail of the one-room house was familiar to him; the chip off of the corner of the coffee table that happened when he smashed his leg against it on accident, earning him the biggest splinter, the worn couch that he was currently sitting on with a sheet thrown over its side, and the walls. They were worn, and clearly in a desperate state--one of them had a huge crack down it, which he should  _ probably _ repair if he could. And then, the centerpiece of the entire shack, a big cork board that took up the entire wall, the one Keith would spend hours looking at. It was full of- 

_ Nothing. _

Keith furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Getting up off the couch, he strides over to the board, running his finger gently across its surface, as if to validate its emptiness. 

_ Huh. That’s weird, he thought it was full of phot- _

Keith quickly shakes his head to dispel the unfinished thought from his mind. 

_ Wait. That’s stupid, where would he get photos from in the middle of the desert?  _

He sighs, that dream messed him up badly. The worst part is, no matter how hard he searches his mind, it keeps coming up blank; he can’t remember for the life of him what it was about. 

_ KEITH! _

The voice sends a jolt through his system, running down from his head to his toes. His hand grips the dagger tucked into his belt. Pivoting on his heel to survey the room, he frantically seeks the one who was calling out to him. He could have  _ sworn _ someone said his name--

But the only sound is the rustling of the linen draped over the window as a draft blows it. Jumping onto the olive sofa, he shoves the cloth aside to scan outside, but all that greets him is the rising sun.  

_ What is wrong with him?  _

Running a gloved hand through his dark hair and finally relaxing his grip on the knife, he closes his eyes to feel the dry wind blow his face. Something feels off. Keith knows this. There is no way to place his finger on what that  _ something _ is, but his gut tells him so. It’s a strange sensation, to say the least, but there is an empty hole in his heart that he doesn’t know how to fill. But he suddenly knows that if he continues to delve into what this feeling is, that it’ll consume him. Something is very wrong. 

Keith cracks his eyes open, breaking the darkness with yellow light. Sweeping his gaze over the rusted hills, the horizon makes his insides churn. 

_ Everything is the same. He knows this…..  _

He’s glued to the window as he watches the sky’s subtle change from orange and pink hues to a solid azure color. There were almost no clouds, and the sun is high in the sky when he feels the ache in his knuckles, now noticing that he was gripping onto the white “curtain.” Keith, albeit reluctantly, lets go. 

_ But why did he expect it to be different?  _

The silence of his household is broken by the grumble of his stomach, letting him know that it’s not satiated with the can of junk he had for dinner and is still left on the table. The floorboards creak when he opens the fridge. He sighs. 

“Empty. Of course it’s empty.” 

Grabbing whatever currency he has in a tray by the door, Keith hops onto his speeder, heading to the nearest market, which conveniently is only about, oh, 45 minutes away. Whatever. He needed an excuse to get out of the house and distract his mind, which the howl of the wind against his ears is more than happy to provide.  Somehow, as his vehicle whizzes across the landscape, he can’t help but have the need for something faster, more responsive. He feels blind while piloting this. Which is weird, considering he’s had it for as long as he can remember. Despite the fact that it is such a familiar object, he can’t help but feel like a stranger while on it. Thankfully, he doesn’t have too much time to dwell on that thought, since he arrives at the market not much longer after. 

As expected of any so called ‘market’ out in the middle of nowhere, it lacks any sort of variety and much shadier than any store in any city. But it carries basic necessities, which is all Keith cares about. Parking his vehicle right outside the entrance, the blackette jumps off in one fluid movement and enters. Strolling past several different tents, he bluntly ignores any offers for goods that he’d rather not waste whatever money is on him. 

Staring at the floor, he doesn’t notice anything until someone bumps into him. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re going” Keith grunts, sneering at the back of whoever pushed him. 

The stranger spins around, a girl with bleach blonde hair and a thin frame. 

“Sorry, but you’re so blinding, I couldn’t see where I was going!” Winking, she shoots him finger guns and her mouth quirks up into a smirk. Something tickles the back of Keith’s mind. 

He’s seen that move before.

_ But where?  _

_ Why does he miss it? _

“The only thing blinding is your lack of direction” He spits in retaliation without thinking. Upon realizing this, Keith’s eyes blown wide like saucers. 

He said what he did without a second thought. As if on autopilot. 

_ Why did he automatically have a retort ready?  _

He spins around, completely deaf to the cries of apology and protest from the girl. His pace quickens, and he starts searching the market tables to find something to connect this newfound tease of a memory.

_ What is it? What is it? Why did I say that? Where have I seen that before? _

Every table he passes suddenly becomes a blur of colors as he jogs past. Useless objects fading together. 

_ Why does my chest suddenly hurt?  _

He grips the thin material of his shirt. It feels as if a gaping hole has opened itself up inside, making it impossible to breathe. Everything  _ hurts _ . He desperately needs to find what he’s missing. And  _ fast. _

Everything clumps together in his head; distorted to no end. 

That is, until Keith sees something that stops him dead in his tracks.

A simple blanket folded on a table. It’s raggedy and old, clearly worn. Usually, it would go unnoticed by Keith or any stranger just passing by, but it’s color instantly lit a lightbulb in his mind. 

_ Blue.  _

The blanket is a deep azure color. Clearly faded over time. But still bright and brilliant and undeniably

_ Blue.  _

Keith, with trembling hands, picks the cloth scrap up. Inspecting it closely. 

_ Blue.  _

In the core of his being, he knows it’s the wrong shade. This sends him into a frenzy to find the right one. 

_ What is he looking for?  _

_ Blue.  _

_ What is it that’s haunting him?   _

_ Blue.  _

The hue hurts so much to think about, and he doesn’t know why. But what he does know is that it’s saturated in so many memories Keith knows he’s lost. It feels like happiness and anxiety and competition and defeat and tenderness and adventures and stories told at midnight all rolled into one. Keith’s vision tunnels as all he can think about is the blanket in his hands. He is consumed by the sheer color of everything as it blends together in his vision. Folding and twisting in his mind, revealing new sensations and sides to the color that he wants to reach out and touch. Feel them tangible on his fingertips. Each like a familiar memory of home and a family--he wants to dive headfirst and bury himself forever in its warmth.  

_ Blue is early mornings and laughter.  _

_ It’s competitions stretched far beyond their limits. _

_ It’s finger guns and pick up lines.  _

_ It’s soft touches and hair braiding.  _

_ It’s cradling and untold bonding moments.  _

_ It’s homesickness and heartache. _

_ It’s nighttime stories and whispered confessions. _

_ It’s stolen kisses and clinging close. _

_ It’s the rush unlike any other.     _

_ It’s Blue.  _

_ Blue is what he loves.  _

Keith sees the droplet fall to the blanket before he realizes he’s crying. The dam breaks, sending a steady stream of tears as each new side of blue runs itself through his mind. He crumples it and clutches it close to his chest. 

_ He’s going to find blue. _

_ But there are more colors too.  _

Through watery eyes, Keith inspects the table once again, taking notice of every item. Not sure what exactly he’s looking for, but in his stomach, a deep pull tells him he knows when he sees it. And he does. 

On the table are a pair of glasses. Something clicks in his head, like gears finally starting to turn after an initial jump start.  

_ That’s green.  _

An apron was the next thing Keith spotted, and unconsciously the corners of his mouth quirk up in a half smile--he can almost smell the cinnamon and honey that is always associated with that article of clothing. 

_ That’s yellow.  _ _   
_ A mannequin hand, used for displaying different jewelries, was the next thing that reeled him in. At this realization he remembers hands, firm hands, holding steadfast to his shoulders when he felt like he was crumbling apart. All the reassuring pats and victory high-fives. 

_ That’s black.  _

But then Keith realizes that he’s missing one more crucial part. The last piece to complete the puzzle. There is a blank slot he knows must be filled, the sequence remained incomplete. He wracks his brain for any information and out of habit, he starts to pace.  

_ Black, green, yellow blue.  _

Keith does another once-over of the stand, and the only thing that catches his eye is the sun being reflected off of a mirror. It’s antique, for sure, with an old frame, but he catches a face in the mirror. It takes him a moment to recognize it. 

_ Red.  _

It suddenly hits him like a brick wall. 

_ It _ ’ _ s me. _

“I’m red!” he yells at his mirror self, startling the merchant, who was reading the newspaper, and some nearby shoppers. 

The puzzle, now with the final piece, is solved: and the memories come flooding back. Every adventure, every planet, every moment. 

_ Coran _

_ Allura _

_ Hunk _

_ Pidge  _

_ Shiro _

“Lance,” Keith whispers aloud, once again trembling. 

“Lance is blue.” The gap in his heart, the overwhelming loneliness, and feeling of being part of a whole, is silenced by the rush of emotion that name of the color owner brings. Lance is the one who tells him cheesy pickup lines in the morning when they wake up in each other's arms. He is the source of Keith’s laughter when they spar on the training deck. He is the supplier of the kisses Keith get’s when he pulls him away from the others after a mission well done. Lance is the one that Keith holds when they fall asleep. Lance is the source of pride Keith gets when aliens flirt with the playful brunette and he denies their advances by saying that he’s taken. Lance is the one who rushes to Keith after a too-close-for-comfort encounter with the Galra. Lance is Keith’s other half. 

Lance is blue. 

_ KEITH!  _

The repressed memory from earlier comes back to him. It was Lance calling to him. But then how is Keith here? He whirls around noticing everything in the market. The blurred faces of people, the lack of detail to anything out of his immediate line of sight. 

“It’s all fake.” 

He wanted to scream. That unsettling feeling in his stomach that something wasn’t right was confirmed before his very eyes. Keith wasn’t supposed to be here. He was supposed to be with Lance and the other paladins, in the space castle fighting Zarkon. So what is he doing here? 

The entire world around him felt as if it was spinning, and pain exploded in his head as, the world Keith thought he knew, unravels with every new question in his mind.  

_ What is this place?  _

_ How did he get here?  _

_ Why did it feel like he hadn’t left Earth at all? _

_ Why did he forget his friends?  _

The taste of the dry air even felt off, as if every detail was too perfect. 

Which it was. 

Ignoring that fact, Keith focused on the most important thing, getting out of wherever ‘here’ was, and getting back to the paladins. 

_ And Lance _

A sudden pang in his heart sent Keith reeling as that small thought echoed in his mind. He needed to leave. 

Now. 

With the blanket still held close to his chest, he took off, feet pounding against the rocky ground as he ran. Not bothering to get onto his speeder, still parked, he kept running. With no plans of stopping, regardless of whatever pain he felt in his legs and the burn in his lungs with every breath he took, Keith kept his sight on the horizon. He wants to go back to the castle. To his lion.  

_ And Lance.  _

He was gasping now, an onslaught of thoughts drifting in and out of his head. 

“ _ Keith and Lance, neck-and-neck. Do you seriously not remember?”   _

_ “I’ll shove you in a wormhole!” _

_ “When I go, I want all of the information in my head to be stored in a ship.”  _

_ “Nope. Don’t remember, didn’t happen.”  _

_ “I don’t know what happened, but whatever it is, it was probably Keith’s fault.”  _

_ “Stupid space mullet.”  _

_ “Whoops, sorry Shiro, I was trying to hit Keith.” _

_ “I guess you’re not that bad….”  _

_ “I’m not looking at you funny! You’re the weird one!” _

_ “I’m always here for you”  _

_ “We are a pretty good team, huh?”  _

_ “I...t-think that I may l-like you, Mullet.”  _

_ “I bet I’ll be the better boyfriend!” _

_ “I hate your stupid face. Makes me want to kiss it.” _

_ “I love you.” _

_ “KEITH!”  _

Everything is tuned out, except for the sound of Lance’s voice like a song on repeat. With eyes squeezed shut, he tries to focus on what he wants the most. He wants to go  _ home.  _ He doesn’t even notice that, despite how long he’s been running, it’s just the same scenery over and over. He doesn’t even notice when his stomach flip flops, and everything becomes distorted. It’s only when he’s suddenly in the middle of his room does Keith come back to his senses. 

“Not  _ this _ home, dammit!” He yells at his blank corkboard.  

Without thinking, he sends his foot flying towards the stupid wall and its stupid emptiness. A loud,  _ CRASH _ reverberates around the room. And it breaks apart into several cracked pieces of wood. He falls to the floor, tucking his knees to his chest. 

“Why am I here?” he whispers with a choked sob. 

His organs feel crushed, the tears flowing down his face faster than they were before. Air burned as it came in and out of his system, but nothing mattered to him anymore. The only thing he cared about was the echo reverberating in his head. 

_ “KEITH!”  _

He holds onto the distant sound of that voice like it’s a lifeline, although, he supposes it is. 

Lance, the pretty cargo pilot he was obsessed with at the Garrison, the dorky flirt who hit on anything with two legs. Keith remembers vividly how he had to restrain himself every time the blue paladin decided to test his luck with other aliens, and the pain Keith experienced when they weren’t him. He remembers the very day that Lance admitted he didn’t like just girls and the warmth that blossomed in his chest when he realized he had a chance. 

_ “Don’t be stupid; I like  _ pretty _ things, Keith, regardless if they are male or female.” _

The more he finds himself dwelling on the memories, the more the pain in his chest subsides. The gaping hole seems to close little by little. A deep coolness surrounds his limbs as if he’s floating in water, and he feels weightless. All of the burdens that forced his feet to remain tethered to the floor are suddenly lifted. Without hesitation, he gives himself up completely to his mind, letting go of any control he had. 

 

Like putting a playlist on shuffle, memories and stories all flash by at random, but as each one passes by, he feels it’s gentle nudge at the edge of his consciousness, pushing him further into the direction he feels he should go. The first couple memories are simple ones, from the good years at the Garrison, riding on his speeder, and watching the sky light up in the early morning and at dusk. The next memories are what could only be described as happy ones: team bonding exercises, the food fight from their first week in the castle, the sheer rush the team collectively felt after they won a battle. Those left him smiling, making him re-experience raw feelings of joy and comfort. Remembering how before he met Lance and the rest of the Voltron team, he was emotionally cut off, the only person he’d ever opened up to was Shiro. But after so many battles and “bonding exercises” they had become his family, and it was safe to say he’d never been happier than when he was with them. 

 

The last set of memories was something he wanted to reach out and grab hold of so that he could clutch them close to his chest. So that they could fill the small hole that still remained. They made his heart want to glow. They managed to make the guardian of fire even warmer. They were memories that Keith looked upon with pure  _ love _ . They were memories of  _ Lance.  _

 

All of their best and worst moments together became mashed together into one big compilation. Each new thought brought him closer to what he knew should be his home. Not whatever made up world he managed to trap himself in, or the fake comfort of familiarity. For the first time in what felt like forever, Keith smiled at some of his fondest memories; staying awake just to have late night talks on the observation deck watching the stars, sleepy cuddles late into the morning, when Lance got possessive over Keith when an alien tried to flirt with him and when Keith did the same, every one of their kisses they’d ever shared, when they announced their relationship to the team, the moment they announced their feelings to each other, they all filled him with such light. And all Keith could focus on was how much he desperately wanted to make more memories with Lance and with the team. But most importantly, how he never wanted to be alone again. 

 

_ You will never be alone again.  _

 

It was the promise Hunk made with each new dish or comforting hug.

It was the promise Pidge made with every new upgrade or hours long conspiracy talk. 

It was the promise Shiro made with every perfectly executed plan or sparring match. 

It was the promise Allura made with every order she gave or escapade. 

It was the promise Coran made with every weird reference or bonding exercise. 

It was the unsaid promise that Lance screamed at him every time they held hands or held him close. 

It was the promise he made to his family by coming to their immediate defense and swearing to protect them at all costs.

 

All at once, the same memories flashed by, this time in more rapid succession until they came to what should be his most recent memory, but instead, a new one appeared. 

 

A focused laser beam coming straight for Lance in the middle of a heated battle. There was too little time for Lance to react, but plenty of time for Keith to shove him aside, and take the full force of it. In the blink of an eye, a hole opened up in his chest where there  _ really _ shouldn’t be one. He clattered to the ground in a heap of limbs only to be held up by a set of familiar arms. Lance’s eyes were blown wide, already at the verge of tears. He turned around, without taking his gaze off of Keith and shot down whatever it was that hit Keith. The bayard clattered to the ground as a soft hand was placed on the red paladin’s cheek. Keith’s eyes fluttered shut, the pain causing him to grow extremely tired. Tears streamed down Lance’s cheeks in rivers and his voice came out ragged but frantic. 

 

“KEITH! Oh god, Keith.” Lance’s voice cracked as he choked on his own words. His hand kept stroking Keith’s cheek, desperate for any signs of life, it was soft and full of tenderness. 

 

“Come back to me, please. You can’t leave me here….I love you and I know damn well you love me too.” He waited for any type of response but his sobbing increased when he realized he wasn’t going to get one. In one gasp Lance wailed. 

 

“KEITH, DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE!” 

 

* * *

The memory faded to black and all of a sudden violet eyes opened with a start. For just a moment, everything was a shade of turquoise before the medical cryopod opened with a  _ hiss _ and suddenly Keith’s legs could no longer support him and gravity quickly took over sending him tumbling forward. But before he could crash to the ground, a pair of arms caught him. Any potential thoughts Keith could have were immediately lost, as Keith’s brain tried to scramble and figure out  _ what.  _

 

Blinking he finally noticed the tan hands still holding him. Involuntarily his body moved to snuggle closer into the embrace, despite the flash of pain that ran all through his body. He winced which caused the person who held him to flinch too. Looking up at the face of his savior, he realized he knew this person. Their eyes scanned every inch of Keith’s face, gaze dripping concern but also a sense of so much affection it made Keith’s head spin. But Keith broke out into a smile. 

 

“Keith.” Lance’s voice was gentle and low, as if Keith would crumble away in his arms at any second. 

 

“Lance.” His own voice was gravelly, like he hadn’t spoken in ages. Looking into Lance’s cerulean eyes, he wanted to lose himself forever. Opening his mouth to say something-- _ anything-- _ else, he was abruptly cut off by Lance resting his forehead on Keith’s. Exhaling a sigh of deep relief. Their noses touched and Keith wanted nothing more than to close the impossible space between them. Lance’s hand trailed up to tangle in the mess of black hair on Keith’s head. And in the middle of the empty Pod Bay, Keith’s red crashed into Lance’s blue in a tangle of colors. They kissed like it was the end of the world. 

 

Keith smiled into the kiss. 

 

_ He was home.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh. Ok. 
> 
> Firstly, thank you for getting this far. I hope you liked it. Again, sorry for the writing style. 
> 
> Secondly, this oneshot will be a part of a series of 2 oneshots, the next one from Lance's perspective, which will answer what happened. 
> 
> Thirdly, at least someone may be asking: "why are you working on THIS instead of the chapter fic you started." welllllll....I WILL be continuing it. Thanks to some lovely commenters, which I will give tons of thank yous and shout outs for in the notes of the next chapter of TPATK, I have decided to continue the fic and will be getting started on the writing shortly. 
> 
> To repeat what I said in the opening notes:   
> **Bonus points for anyone to guess what songs I listened to while writing this.**   
> (Hint: It was not P!ATD, the title is just a pure coincidence because I just felt like it fit.)  
> ^^in the second Oneshot of the series I'll put in the notes who (if anyone) guessed. They are difficult songs so good luck! 
> 
> That's all! Thank you so much for reading, and I am SOOO looking forward to Season 3.   
> Please comment/kudos or send me a message on Tumblr: miraculous-oceanseyes
> 
> Love y'all!   
> Sincerely,   
> Miraculous_Oceanseyes


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